Kings and Queens in a Common World
by secretcastle
Summary: Susan and Peter must deal with life in England after leaving Narnia forever. When old troubles come, they turn to each other for comfort. Lots of sibling fluff and girl-power Susan. Prince Caspian-movie based.
1. Another Suitor

**A/N: **_I got inspired to write this after watching Prince Caspian. That movie just blew me away and made me appreciate the story more. It's a wonderful example of how a film could enhance the book. I particularly like how the film gave Susan and Lucy a more active role in the fighting and show them as strong warrior-like queens that can fight when they need to. _

_I know this is not complete book-canon based. I'm not very fond of the Susan-Caspian romance, but I suppose it wasn't so bad the way they did it in the movie and so I decided to use it here. _

_This story takes place back in England, a few months after the Pevensies return to school after they've helped Caspian. Edmund and Lucy haven't had their adventure on the Dawn Treader yet and Susan hasn't completely forgotten her kingdom yet. _

_**Disclaimer**__: I don't own the Chronicles of Narnia. But C. S. Lewis did give permission for his children fans to write more stories to fill out the unfinished tales. I took that to heart and so I came up with the story for the enjoyment of other Narnian fans._

_**Warning**__: Mild spoilers for the movie Prince Caspian. If you haven't watched the film, do so. I promise you, it's amazing._

**Kings and Queen in a Common World**

**Chapter One: Another Suitor**

The image flew down from her mind and smoothly down to the paper. Slowly, the lines formed the outlines of his dark hair, the well-chiseled chin, the firm torso clad in hard iron armour worn with dust, grime, blood. On his hand, his blade held out firmly, thrusting at his enemy—a figure she had yet to sketch. His expression was fierce yet in his eyes burned the passion of determination to survive, to conquer for the sake of his country, for the sake of his people.

Susan put down her pen to admire her doodled work. Her finger lightly touched the ink-made face.

Caspian.

Her mind longed to scream with frustration and longing of what could have been. She shut her eyes to imagine him for real standing across her just as he did on that day when Aslan had them assembled by the magic tree. His eyes held the longing that was in hers. How pained they were when she uttered those words: "That's just it, we're not coming back."

She opened her eyes. The only image of him left was that of her sketch on a napkin next to her coffee that had turned cold long ago. She gulped the remainder of the coffee all the same as she became aware of her surroundings. All around her in the café were men of all ages—from the young school boys 

in their wrinkled ties to the elderly professors in their smart jackets. But she could feel their gazes on her. Most of the older men tried not to show it. The pretended to talk academics and politics to each other while they stole occasional glances. The youngest boys openly gawked at her as if wondering why a girl was sitting all alone at their usual café on a Saturday. The teenagers and the university boys however, didn't even try to be subtle. They were all staring intently, waiting for the chance for her to look up and find an opening to approach her.

A room full of men. All wanted her.

It was the one thing that didn't change. Just like before when all the men in the world sought her.

But she didn't want them. She wanted only one—just one who could be worthy enough.

And she did find him.

Then lost him forever.

Her heart clenched at the injustice of it all.

So here she was, seeking the one solace she always sought when the frustration caused by the countless unworthy suitors became too much of a burden. She fingered the piece of paper half unfolded a little away from her plate of half-eaten scones. She was careful not to drop any crumbs on the neat handwritten letter. She read the words again as if they were poetic balm to her soul.

_Dear Susan,_

_All is well here in school. Edmund and I have settled back into our study routines and getting along quite well in all our subjects (the horrible Latin and Algebra included). It would please you to know that I haven't had a single fight since we came back and I am thoroughly behaving myself as I should. _

_I am channeling the energy into something else more productive though. I have taken up fencing lessons. I know you will say that I don't need it since I am already an expert but I need an outlet somehow and this is the only thing available to me at my school. I pretended to be a beginner at first so it wouldn't seem so obvious. But little by little I managed to show off my skill as to make it a quite convincing progress of a fast learner. I was hoping to let it all out once I get into the prestigious school fencing club where I can have more challenging opponents. But to my dismay, I found out there are some seniority issues that bar me, an "amateur," from joining. My instructor though found "I had potential" so he decided I should join the open fencing competition this coming Saturday where I can duel with even some of the most senior members of the team. If I can win a slot among the top ten during the competition, I can be granted automatic membership to the club. It's just too bad my number one cheerleader (Edmund) will be missing it since he has exams slated the following week and will be too busy studying to watch. I suppose I'll give him the blow-by-blow alongside the letter I'll send to you and Lucy about it._

_I'm sure the competition is not quite as exciting the tournaments we have back home, but I'm still grateful for them. I take what comes and I resolve to be content. Our last adventure has taught me enough patience and humility that I submit to my lot. I want to do good in this world as I have in the one we left, even if the ways of doing so are not so grand. _

_Courage Su. I know what happened to us pains you as much as it does me. But know that you are not alone in this experience. I will always be here for you whenever you need me. And even if our kingdom is lost forever to us, remember this: you still are and always will be my queen._

_Your High King and forever loving brother,_

_Peter _

He always had a way to make her feel better even with just words written on ink. So just for the comfort of that one letter, she decided to reciprocate the gesture and make his day. Early Saturday morning she scribbled a note to Lucy, left her dormitory of the girl's school she went to and took the first train to his boarding school. If Edmund couldn't be there to cheer him on during his competition, then she would. It was too bad Lucy couldn't come either. She was still out on a school field trip to the country and wouldn't be back until Sunday.

She arrived just in time for a late breakfast that she chose to take in this café nearest to his school. His competition wouldn't start until 10 a.m. and Susan planned to just show up at the match and give him a pleasant surprise. She was just imagining the look on his face when she saw a shadow above his letter.

She looked up to find a tall, handsome, red haired young man in a neat white fencing outfit with the emblem of Peter's school on the left breast. On his waist he had a sheathed foil. He looked a few years older than Peter, about a year away from going to college at her estimate. He had a rather long nose and a hard-chiseled chin. His hair was slicked and greasy with pomade. He grinned at her with a set of perfect pearly whites. She could just imagine he practiced smiling in the mirror.

"Oh hello there. You seem to be quite alone."

Susan fought the urge to roll her eyes heavenward at the rather obvious statement. She decided silence was the best way to tell him she wasn't interested.

But the boy didn't take the hint. He flashed her another grin and this time the glint in his eye spelled obvious desire. "I thought you could use some company, Miss..." He stared at the top of the letter and read her name. "Susan?"

"I'm well enough on my own thank you," she replied curtly then turned to fold Peter's letter and put it in her pocket before the boy could read the rest of it.

The boy however didn't appear to hear it. He sat down on the empty chair next to her, drummed his fingers on the table and gave her a swagger of eyebrows. "Ahhh…" he said with mock realization. "Miss Susan, don't think you can deceive me, I know what you're playing."

Susan didn't reply. She knew what was coming and she didn't want to take the bait.

The boy however, went along with his line. "You come here to be admired don't you?"

Susan continued to ignore him.

"Oh I know all about the games you silly girls in those Catholic schools plan up. You send a girl out on a Saturday to go to the café a stone's throw away from the all-boy's boarding school where you know we chaps all hang out. Then you find out how many boys' heads you can turn and you keep count."

Susan fumed. She didn't know about other girls, but she certainly wasn't like that. She glared at him for the insult but he seemed to take that as a compliment.

"Uh, uh, uh," he said, shaking his head. "I know all about it. But not to worry, Miss Susan. I think you won. And I'll even admit it, you've turned my head. You should be flattered, you will have quite a story to tell all the other girls. I'm not just any boy." He held out a hand. "James Henry Narciso III, Captain, Varsity Fencing Club."

His sheer arrogance was remarkable. Susan had met a lot of arrogant men in her life but she would have to chalk him as a runner-up to Rabadash in a competition of her suitors with the most swelled heads.

"What's this?" he asked as he pointed to the napkin Susan had doodled in earlier to draw Caspian. He snatched it up before she had a chance to keep it away. He stared at the image.

"Have you been drawing me the whole time?" he said with mock surprise. "And here I thought you were uninterested, Miss Susan."

Susan could only stare at him in disgust. He looked absolutely nothing like Caspian and certainly nothing like her drawing. "That's not you!" she couldn't help but blurt out.

He seemed pleased that he was able to get a word out of her and he gave her another waggle of his eyebrows. "But it is me. See, the sword? I have one just like it, though you seem to have drawn my sword a little bigger… but then again that's your perception." He looked at her knowingly with his lascivious grin.

Susan had had enough. "I have to go," she declared and stood up. She reached for his purse to pay so she could leave. But he tossed in some money on the table before she could.

"Allow me, Miss Susan."

Susan didn't care. She continued to fumble in her own purse for her wallet but kept missing it. The boy took advantage of her confusion to continue talking.

"Well, I'm inviting you to watch me in the tournament later. School's open to all visitors of course. It starts at 10 o'clock. I'm the reigning champion for two straight years now. I'll make it a third this year."

Susan finally found her wallet but to her dismay she only had a rather large bill. She didn't want to wait for change and allow this boy more time with her. But on the other hand, if she gave away the whole bill without change, she wouldn't have enough money to get on a train back to her school.

"It's alright. I've taken care of it," he said.

"No I'd rather pay for it myself, thank you," Susan replied, keeping her voice as even as possible for she hated making a scene even if he was the most annoyingly arrogant man she had ever encountered in this world.

"You only have a large bill, consider it me buying you breakfast." He gave her another swagger. "And if you want, after I win, you can celebrate with me and I can buy you dinner."

That last invitation made the decision for Susan. It didn't matter anymore if she had to beg Peter and Edmund for money to get herself home. She wasn't staying a moment more in his presence. She tossed the entire bill on the table.

"I said it was covered!" the boy exclaimed.

"I like to give the waitress a big tip," Susan replied before she hurriedly walked out.


	2. Magnificent and Gentle Still

**Chapter Two: Magnificent and Gentle Still**

Peter polished his foil until it shone brightly. He held it high up in the air. It was smaller, lighter, and far inferior than what he was used to. He imagined Rhindon. He wished that powerful blade was back in his hand. He was sure just the heaviness of that superior steel alone would have comforted him right now. He wouldn't have to feel so small with a sword like that in his grip. But he knew there was no recovering it anymore. He handed that gift to Caspian, much like he gave away the rest of his kingdom.

He remembered that day by the magical tree. Those few short seconds when the Telmarines voiced their doubts about being sent through that doorway, Peter debated with himself. He wanted to remain quiet, a silent defiance against Aslan's will. And if forced to go back, he would beg. Oh yes, he would beg Aslan to let them remain. It didn't matter if he wasn't high king anymore. Caspian can have the kingdom. Peter would humbly offer to be a mere knight or a humble soldier, only let him stay. Let him stay here where he could be of service again to the country he loved.

But when Aslan turned to him, he knew what must be done. He swallowed the pain in his own heart, the swelling pride and the million doubts on Caspian's ability to rule. He allowed his faith to remain. It was the only thing that gave him courage to surrender the sword to Caspian—and with it half his life.

He caught sight of his own reflection on the blade he now held. How small he looked in this simple uniform and he appeared smaller still since the thin foil only showed a fraction of his image. He shut his eyes again and muttered a prayer:

_Aslan, help me to accept things that I cannot change. Give me strength to be content with what I have._

When he opened his eyes, the world remained the same. Yet he felt better almost immediately. He sheathed his foil then turned to his schoolmates. Several boys were busy doing warm up exercises or polishing their own foils all around the school yard. Peter noticed one particular small boy near him practicing his parries. Peter could see he was holding the hilt wrong. The boy wouldn't be able to hold on to his sword for more than five seconds with that kind of grip.

"Hang on, Douglas," Peter said gently. "You might want to work on that. It goes like this." Peter adjusted the boy's fingers on the hilt. "See? Better grip with it and allows you to move better."

"Thanks Peter," the boy said gratefully. "I'm really nervous about this tournament."

Peter just gave him an assuring pat on the back. "Just keep calm. Remember your training. It's going to be alright. You'll do fine."

"Easy for you to say," said another dark-haired stubby, bespectacled boy around Peter's age named Jack. He was standing close to Douglas when Peter came over and apparently overheard them. "You're a natural, Pete, unlike the rest of us."

Peter knew Jack well enough to know that the remark wasn't an insult. He was merely expressing his panic as Peter knew Jack was prone to nervous attacks every now and then. He appeared to be having one now as Peter noticed the boy was looking a bit green.

"I've already forgotten everything they taught us! I shouldn't have entered this tournament. What was I thinking?!"

Peter pulled the boy to a nearby bench and forced him to sit down. Douglas followed them but he hung back, looking a bit frightened as well. Peter knew he had to calm his friend down before he scared off little Douglas more than he already was.

"Relax, Jack. Deep breaths," Peter told him calmly in the usual manner he used to comfort his young soldiers just before they go on their first battle. Though few of his Narnian soldiers displayed this much fear in the face of death, Peter encountered one or two occasionally and he already knew how to deal with them. "That's it deep breaths," Peter encouraged and he was relieved to see that Jack's colour returned a little. "Courage, Jack. You're going to be fine. The coach won't let you duel anyone you can't handle."

Jack took five more breaths and appeared well enough though his clenched knuckles were still white. "It's not that. It's just that my parents and my little brother are coming to watch," whimpered Jack. "They took so much to effort to come here to see me duel. Now I wish they won't come 'cause I won't be any good at all."

Peter could understand his predicament. Jack was one of few students here that merely got into the school due to a scholarship. His parents weren't well off and probably had to save money for train fare to see their son. Jack often talked how his parents dreamed of having an educated son with all the skills of a proper English gentleman. They had high hopes for him and Jack wanted them to see him on top of everything. The trouble was, Jack was good at books but he was mediocre as an athlete—even Peter had to admit that. Jack only took up fencing because his father thought it was a gentlemanly sport that he should learn.

Peter often advised him in the past to tell his father that he didn't need to take up fencing to be a properly educated man, but so far Jack hadn't been gotten around to saying it to his father. As exasperated as Peter was of him, he knew better than to criticize the poor boy when they were fifteen minutes away from the start of the tournament. He decided to be the good friend and gush out the encouragement instead.

"Don't think like that," Peter told him. "It's good of your parents to come. At least you'll have somebody to cheer you. I won't." Once the words were out of his mouth, Peter suddenly felt sad himself. He wished his own parents could come to his tournament. He didn't need the moral support of course, but it was still nice to have them around. But his father was still in France fighting the Nazis while his mother was busy with the war relief effort in London. He wished his siblings were here too. In the past, Edmund or at least one of his sisters came to cheer him in his tournaments in Narnia. However, Edmund was too busy studying for exams while Susan and Lucy were in their own boarding schools miles away. Peter decided not to dwell on his own self-pity but focused instead on Jack's problem.

"Don't worry about it," Peter continued. "They're your family and whether or not you win they'll still be proud of you for trying. Just give off your best and—"

He never got to finish his sentence. Jack's head suddenly jerked forward and he uttered a cry. His cry got cut off when his whole body was forcefully pushed and he landed face first on the ground. Peter scrambled to pick him up. He whipped around as cruel laughter erupted behind him. Peter saw that it came from a group of five bigger and older boys clad in crisp white uniforms of the school's varsity fencing team. The biggest of them had his sword drawn with the hilt pointed out. Peter realized the older boy hit Jack with the blunt end of his sword on the back of the head then kicked him on the rear to make him fall over.

"What was that for?!" Peter called out to the red-headed captain of the team after he helped Jack back on his feet and handed him back his fallen glasses.

The older boy grinned mirthlessly. "He should watch his rear—big as it is." He looked down at Jack. Jack was small for his age and captain towered over him like a giant. "Why don't you drop out now, piggy while your parents still have some respect for you? Once you get out there and see what an oaf you are, they might just disown you." The other four boys behind him laughed and Jack appeared to sink even lower.

"That's enough," Peter said evenly.

The captain turned to him, his eyes threatening. "And what are you going to do about it?" He stared down at Peter's simple uniform. "Amateur."

Peter's tongue itched to insult back, but he checked himself. He wasn't going to give in to name calling. He kept silent.

"What's wrong?" the older boy continued as he shoved Peter hard on the chest. "Scared now, scum?" He pushed Peter harder a second time but Peter kept his balance and continued to stare back at the other boy silently. His non-reaction appeared to anger the other boy more.

"Don't you know who you're dealing with, huh?" the boy threatened as he came several inches next to Peter's face. Peter was already tall for his age, but this other boy was still a head taller so the top of Peter's head only reached up to his chin. "I know you," he continued. "You're that Petensey boy."

"It's Pevensie," Peter couldn't help but correct him.

"I'll call you what I like," the bully continued. "The coach tells me you're aiming to get into the fencing team. Well you're sadly mistaken." He pulled back and began circling Peter like a vulture. "I'm Henry James Narciso III, captain of the varsity team and you better remember it because this is the nearest you're going to get into my team, amateur scum."

The boys around the yard began to notice the confrontation going on and formed a circle to watch. Peter knew most of them were expecting him to start a fight. He recognized some of them before who witnessed him get drawn in brawls in the past. Peter resolved to disappoint them this time by being the better man.

Narciso stopped circling and faced Peter again. "I think you need to learn some manners. Apologize to me," he ordered.

"For what?" Peter couldn't help but say though he kept the tone of his voice in check. This was so familiar from the last fight he had at the train station just before he got sucked back into Narnia.

"For presuming to be equal to your betters. You need to show some respect, hey Petensey boy." He gave Peter another solid shove on the shoulder but again Peter caught himself on time. He wanted to hit back and he knew he was likely to win given his recent combat exploits, but Susan's voice came into his head: "Is it so hard to just walk away?"

"I'm waiting scum," said Narciso.

Peter stared all around him. His sister's voice still rang on his ears and he realized she was right.

"I apologize," Peter said calmly then withdrew to stand beside Jack and Douglas.

Narciso appeared content with that. "Good." He turned and walked away without a second glance, He looked extremely pleased with himself. His followers came at his heels, imitating his gestures.

Peter watched them. He felt no satisfaction in letting him go, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He was still a king inside and he knew to act like one.

"You let him go just like that?" Jack asked him when Narciso and his thugs were gone and the disappointed crowd began to disperse.

"There is a time to fight with good cause. This wasn't one of them," Peter replied.

"Well I think you're a brick, Peter. You were all the better for it," Douglas said and Peter caught the shinning admiration in the younger boy's eyes. The thought that he had set a good example gave him the surprising fulfillment he longed for. He was glad he didn't fight back.

"Thanks, now we should get ready and—" He stopped as his eyes caught sight of a familiar face moving past the crowd at the other end of the school yard. He blinked as he scarcely believed what he was seeing.

"My parents are here!" Jack cried unhappily. "Oh I hope they didn't see what happened."

But Peter was no longer paying attention. He was running forward and stopped only when he caught a pair of soft hands with his.

"Su?"

* * *

Susan entered her brothers' boarding school and found herself in the foyer in the company of several parents. They were all talking noisily among each other For a moment Susan felt a bit out of place. She was the only girl there that didn't appear old enough to be a mother. She checked her watch. It showed 20 minutes to ten. She still had time to find Peter and perhaps let him know she was around. She was about to walk out into the yard when she came beside an eager father, his wife and a very energetic five-year-old boy.

"Is Jack really gonna fight with a sword, Papa?" the little boy asked.

"Yes, yes," replied the father who seemed just as excited as the little boy himself. "He turned to his wife. "Could you 'magine, dear? Our boy, our dear Jack, all grown up and 'ntering a fencing match? He's a proper genteelman now if he can fight with a sword. I bet he can chop down those stuck up little princes in this place."

Susan felt amused at the statement. The father, she could tell, had a rather different perception of what fencing was all about. But she can understand him. From the way the whole family was dressed and the manner they spoke she could tell they came from a poor household and never understood fencing. She figured their Jack was probably the first member of the family to get into a proper school or be taught the sport.

"Of course dear," the mother spoke but her tone suggested she wasn't too thrilled with the idea of watching her son fight in a match. "But I really hope he won't get hurt. Swords are sharp and I don't want my boy to do no chopping."

She sounded so alarmed that Susan felt for her. She didn't hesitate to speak up and reassure her.

"Pardon me madam, I couldn't help over hearing," Susan spoke gently as the woman faced her. "But you need not worry. School fencing competitions are very safe. They don't chop opponents and they only use foils and protective clothing at all times."

"Do you really think so?" asked the worried mother.

"They don't chop?" the little boy asked. He sounded disappointed and his father gave a corresponding expression.

Susan stifled a giggle at their innocence and shook her head to confirm. "No they just try to touch with the tip of the blade on specific target areas of the body…" She stopped as she realized the poor father and son were looking rather glum. "But it is still a very exciting sport with a lot of action involved. I'm sure you would still enjoy it," Susan quickly added. She didn't want to disappoint the father and son too much, but at the same time she wanted to reassure the mother her son was in no danger.

It seemed to work for the father-son duo appeared to brighten while the mother though, looked immensely relieved. "Oh thank the Lord!" she said. "I really have no idea about genteelmen sports. My 

husband's just a cabbie, you know and I work the seams every now and then. But we work hard, my husband and I, for our Jack. He's a brilliant boy, see and we want him educated, be a proper gent." The woman sounded apologetic as if she was embarrassed by her lot. She kept eyeing Susan's neat dress.

Susan's family was by no means rich, but her parents can afford well enough to send four children to decent boarding schools and have a little money left over. She knew not everyone was as fortunate. But she never looked down on people just because they were poor. She remembered that the first king and one of the most noble rulers of Narnia was also once a lowly cab driver.

"It's alright," Susan continued. "I've seen fencing matches before. It's very safe."

The woman seemed to breathe easier. "I'm glad." More parents arrived into the foyer that it became unbearably stuffy inside. They continued to chatter noisily, bragging about their children's accomplishments. Susan felt the family shrink a little in comparison. Everyone was better dressed than they were and they seemed a bit lost. Susan couldn't bear the idea of them being uncomfortable around these other stuffy stuck up parents.

"I think we should go outside the yard for a bit. The match doesn't start until 10. Maybe there's still time to meet Jack," Susan offered. She knew her way around her brothers' school based on the detailed letters Edmund sends her so often. The little family seemed glad to follow her suggestion. "My name is Susan, by the way."

The couple introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Robbins and their young son John.

"You've come to see your young man fight?" Mr. Robbins asked.

"Oh, no, no," Susan laughed but didn't take the question against him. Why do adults always presume she had a boyfriend? "I'm here to see my brother, Peter."

"He must be good at sword then, Lady Susan," Mrs. Robbins respectfully. "Since you know it so well."

Susan felt herself blush. No one had called her "Lady" in a long time and she couldn't help but feel flattered with the praise accorded to her brother. "He's fairly good at it," she said humbly. "And please, it's just Susan."

They finally arrived at the school courtyard where many of the young men where warming up or setting themselves ready for the match. Susan had no trouble finding Peter based on his golden locks. He was already dressed for the match and sitting at a bench next to a chubby boy in glasses. Susan recognized the way her brother was comforting the other boy. It was like how he used to give advice to his young troops.

"There's Jack!" little John pointed to the boy next to Peter. Susan was about to come over to him for proper introductions when she noticed a group of older boys slip be him. Susan recognized the tallest of them as the annoying captain that kept pestering her at the café.

"How nice he has friends," Mrs. Robbins remarked before she gasped. Susan was confused but when she turned back to Peter's direction, she found out why. Narciso kicked the boy beside Peter and he fell to the ground. Peter bent down to help pick him up.

"That boy kicked our Jack!" Mr. Robbins cried indignantly but his wife was quick to pacify and prevent him from charging forward. Susan was grateful for the wife's intuition. If she knew anything about fights among young boys it would not help poor Jack's reputation to have his father charging to his defense, especially after Susan found what an arrogant bully Narciso was.

She watched as Peter stood in front of Jack. She was too far to hear what they were saying but she could tell the older boy was insulting her brother. Narciso pushed Peter hard across the chest and Susan was relieved to see that her brother wasn't fighting back. His face remained calm though she knew an internal struggle was going on his mind.

_Please, Aslan, give Peter strength. Don't let him lose his temper,_ she prayed silently. The tension went on for quite a long time. She saw Narciso push Peter again then circled him threateningly. A circle of boys began to form around them. Susan could feel their silent lust for violence egging Peter on to strike back.

_Just walk away, Peter. Don't give in. Just don't give in,_ she silently called to him.

Narciso kept taunting him and Susan could feel her brother's reserve was being tested. But finally he said something calmly then drew back. His bully looked satisfied and left. Susan had never felt prouder of Peter than this moment.

_Thank you, Aslan._

"Come on, let's greet them," Susan told her companions. Mr. Robbins appeared to have calmed down enough. "That's my brother Peter, the blonde one."

"Is he really?" Mr. Robbins exclaimed with admiration. "Well, he's a fine boy, standin' up for our Jack."

Susan could only nod in quiet thank you at the compliment. She made her way past the dispersing crowd of boys. When she finally met his eyes, he blinked for a moment as if wondering if she was real. She smiled back to assure him that she was. He ran towards her and had her hands clasped in his in half a moment.

"Su?"

"Peter," she said calmly for her brother was close to bouncing around her like a five-year-old on Christmas morning. Susan couldn't help but laugh as she remembered how he would show this child-like trait to only her and their siblings even when he was high king. "Breathe, brother. It's just me."

He ignored her and kept squeezing her hands. "What… what… are you doing here, Su?" he asked. His eyes were dancing around with joy and Susan knew he missed her like she did him. It feels like so long 

since they've been together and they were never apart for more than a few months in the past, even when they were in Narnia.

"I came to watch your match," she replied. "You said Ed couldn't come so I'm here to cheer for you instead."

If it was possible, her brother's grin shot up from ear to ear. "And Lucy?" he asked as his eyes went around to check if their little sister was hiding somewhere behind Susan's skirt.

"I'm sorry she can't come. She's still out on a field trip and won't be back tomorrow."

His grin grew smaller by an inch but Susan didn't take it against him. Lucy was always Peter's favorite and she always had the most interesting cheers for him. But the overjoyed-Peter-grin was back to its usual length a moment later.

"Well, you'll just have to cheer twice as hard for me, Su?" he said.

"Three times as hard, Pete. I'm also cheering for Ed's behalf, remember? How is he anyway?"

"Buried in a pile of books. I wouldn't want to be him right now but you know Ed. He relishes in his studies and gives a hundred percent concentration. He kicked me out of our dorm room early this morning and told me not to come back until late at night so he won't be bothered."

Susan giggled. It wasn't the first time that Edmund kicked anyone out while he was studying. Back in Narnia, his room was off limits to anyone when he was reviewing treaties and laws. And there would be hell to pay to anyone that bothered the Just King without just cause.

"Well he did promise he'll try to come see me in my last match later this afternoon."

"You mean the championship match?" Susan asked eagerly. She was confident Peter could top the competition.

But Peter shook his head. "No, I don't think I'll reach that far. I just need to get into the top ten so I can get into the fencing team. I don't need to win the match."

Susan understood her brother's humility and decided not to push it. Although she secretly wished he would consider putting up a fight until the end. It would mean usurping the conceited captain that tried to bully him before.

"However far you go, I'll cheer for you, Peter," said Susan as she gave him a hug that he warmly returned.

When they parted Susan found Mr. and Mrs. Robinson eyeing them. She remembered her manners and introduced them to Peter while Peter introduced her to their son Jack. Peter also went around introducing Susan to half a dozen other boys who were in his fencing class. They all gave her looks of polite admiration. Susan was used to such looks and was grateful that Peter's friends had proper manners and didn't appear fresh around her… or maybe that was just the presence of her brother.

"Well we must be off," Peter said finally. "Go get some good seats and I'll meet you later for lunch."

"Good luck then Peter," she said. She kissed his cheek and let him go off with Jack and his other friends.

"Fine young man, your brother," Mrs. Robbins muttered when they were alone. "Quite magnificent isn't he?"

"Yeah," agreed her husband. "He's a proper gent, I'm glad Jack's taking after him. No finer man, your brother, he's kingly, I should say."

Susan silently agreed.

* * *

_**A/N: **__I'm not really sure if I should be posting this just yet, but my original characters appear to be running away and taking a life of their own. I'm afraid if I don't post soon they will overtake poor Peter and Susan and leave them in the dust. Where would this fanfic end up then?_

_I'm really surprised that I'm getting a lot of reviews for this (not to mention so many story alerts). I really want to thank you all. I suppose with the movie out there's a lot more of you reading this fandom. I can tell even my old favorite Narnian authors are coming out of the woodwork and coming up with brilliant stories. Even my old Narnian fanfics are getting a second wind and I'm getting so excited about them. _

_I'm planning for Susan in this story to take on a more active warrior-queen outlook that's more in-sync with her personality in the Prince Caspian film than in the book. I just love her character so much and I think she deserves a story that shows her in a more positive strong light._


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